About this fic

- Colaberation fic between 'Cultivateyourhunger' and 'Leafonthebreeze' (check out their/our profiles for our seperately written work, bar 'Learning curve' on my (Cultivate's) profile)

- Modern-day AU Naruto

- Set in London (we will give a crate of cookies to anyone who can tell us exactly where they are :P)

- After this chapter (the intro) all the chapters will be first-person perspectives of one character 'on' another (e.g. Ino talking about Sakura, Shikamaru talking about Choji)

- It won't be completely linear either, so expect timeskips between chapters/characters.

- Different chapters are written predominantly by each of us and beat-ed by the other (we will state who's done what - this is mostly Leaf)

So, now that's out of the way, we'll let you get on with it.

Walking along by the river just wouldn't be complete without the click-whirr of wheels on concrete. Most people walk straight past the skaters and their companions, occasionally pausing to stare at their 'weird' antics and even weirder uniforms before moving swiftly on.

But if you were to stop and study them closely, you would see an interesting collection of young people, as opposed to a fondly named 'pack of freaks'.

Perhaps the first to catch your eye would be Uzumaki Naruto. Not because he is the most unusually dressed (far from it) but because he is the one with the most energy, running manically from one person to another in that characteristically loud and confident way. His penchant for day-glo orange helps too.

But if you look a little closer, you may detect his shadow, Hinata Hyuuga: the moon to his sun (or so she likes to believe in her most secret thoughts), hiding beneath her baggy clothes or standing alone in the shadows. She is one of the least noticeable of them all, so it's strange that she should set her sights on the brightest.

But we are here to see the skaters, because they are good at what they do and give us a cheap five-minute thrill of watching and imagining. Shikamaru Nara noisily grinds and ollies his way around the ramps, executing each perfect manoeuvre with an expression of such disinterest it's as though the board moves itself and he is merely along for the ride. That is, until he is distracted for a second by a piercing wolf whistle and comes crashing off the board.

The whistler, Temari, is one of the more 'interesting' dressers of the group: tartan skirts, safety pins and fishnet tights a staple wherever she goes. Shikamaru, dressed in his standard skater uniform of baggy cargoes and a layered top, pretends not to notice her jeering and brushes the concrete dust off his clothes.

But his unscheduled break lets the other skater shine through. Chouji has none of Shikamaru's grace, an inevitability considering he's a tad 'heavier' than most, but he bears a certain skill gained from using his board as a method of transport rather than something to show off with. His long scarf blows back as he weaves neatly between columns and lone pedestrians, perfecting his technique in relative safety, rather then on the public streets and roads: where a mistake may cost him his life, rather than his pride.

Of course, graffiti covers all the walls here, but these are works ofart – expressions of an individual's style, rather than your basic tags and scribbles.

But only one artist is at work today, his face obscured by a heavy trench coat and dark glasses, moving his sleeved arms in sweeping arcs and turns as he carves out the body of a giant ant trampling a stylised city. But he is careful not to cover any of the powerful, snarling fox close by his canvass; nine tails swirling and curling behind him in long licks of neon flame.

Shino has respect for Naruto's work.

A few people surround Shino, watching him work with varying degrees of interest. Rock Lee gasps in wonder as the creature evolves from a skeleton of outlines, praising his every move and jumping ecstatically whenever a new feature becomes recognisable. Kankaro, painted face partially hidden by a black, horned hood, watches Lee with a mild amusement.

Slightly less interested is the young man in a tight-fitting white t-shirt emblazoned with a neon slogan. His long black hair falls in a straggly mess about his shoulders, bleary eyes obscured by a huge pair of mirrored sunglasses. Standing beside him, casting worried glances every other minute, is Tenten. She sees Neji as her responsibility, and he is clearly unsure of his surroundings (must have been 'out' last night).

Not far away, Ino Yamanaka twirls a strand of peroxide blonde hair between her fingers as she chats to Sakura Haruno. The two make an odd pair, as while Ino's look is highly styled, everything matching perfectly from her earrings to her belt, Sakura's seems far more thrown together; a strange mix of styles that seem to compete with each other rather than compliment. And her shocking pink hair only adds to the effect.

Sakura herself seems a little distracted, darting constant looks behind her as if she was being followed, before finally making an excuse and cutting Ino off mid-flow to edge her way over to the corner where Sasuke Uchiha sits, staring at the paving like it was the most interesting thing to him in the world.

She crouches beside him but gets no reaction, so arranges her skirt and sits next to him, apparently happy just to be near him. And now they are side by side it's clear where (or who) some of Sakura's fashion inspiration came from - like the checked wristband(s) they both wear and how Sasuke seems only to dress in black, with the very occasional flash of blood red.

All his clothes seem slightly too small for him, clinging to his meagre frame as he slumps over with a slightly glazed look in his eyes.

Ino is left at something of a loss with this abandonment, but soon turns and begins a conversation with the slightly less distracted Tenten. Uknowingly, she is watched by an unusually disgruntled looking Kiba, his Hawaiian shirt left unbuttoned to show his abs despite the bitter weather and his small mongrel dog laying lazily by his master's side. Round Kiba's neck hangs a tribute to the friendship between boy and dog, one of Akamaru's milk teeth, tied delicately to a leather cord.

But Kiba is not the only one who seems annoyed. Gaara Sabaku leans alone against a wall dressed rather frighteningly and glaring with a fierce anger at Sasuke. It is immediately apparent why the others are avoiding him; ripped black clothing, thick rings of kohl and huge spiked goth-boots all flash unmistakable 'stay away' sirens. And that scar on his forehead is even worse – the subject of much discussion when he is out of earshot, along with the rumour that he carries a switchblade at all times. In fact, there are many mysteries surrounding Gaara, the answers to which lie only with his siblings.

And they're not telling.

An empty clatter ripples through the group, and a spaced Neji jumps as if crashing back down to earth as a few people look over to where Shino dropped the empty spray-can, which rolls idly away and finds itself under the wheels of a certain skater's board, who - once again - goes crashing towards the pavement with a resonant grunt of, 'shit!'

"Smooth, Shikamaru,"

"Shut up."

A mixed bunch of people; each with their own little drama, their own tale to tell.

But then again, everyone has problems.

Well, now the stage is set. These chapters won't be especially long, and updates should be quick as there's two of us working at the same time.

So if you've a request for a character (from the above), leave a review and keep an eye out for your favorites :P